“Now, to the northeastward I don’t believe
there are any croppings that look good enough.
But just keep along to the southeast, picking up
a specimen here and there. Some of the rock looks
good to me.”

Jim Ferrers didn’t answer in words, though his
eyes gleamed with the old fever that he had known
before.

“Here’s a pretty piece of stone,”
called the guide in a low tone. He stood holding
a fragment about as big as his two fists.

“It’s streaked” pretty well with
yellow, you see, gentlemen,” he remarked;

“It is,” Tom agreed, taking the specimen.

“Does the vein run with the top of the ridge?”
demanded Harry eagerly.

“It runs a little more to eastward, from this
point, I think,” Tom made answer. “But
let us walk along, in three parallel lines, and see
who finds the best indications.”

By noon all three were fairly tired out by the steep
climbing over the rocky ground. Each had as
many specimens as he could carry. The result
of the exploration had tended to confirm Tom’s
notion as to where the vein lay.

“Now, let’s see about where we’d
stake the claim,” Tom proposed. “Of
course, we want to get the best rock obtainable.
We don’t want to leave the best part of this
slope for some one else to stake out. It seems
to me that the claim ought to start up by that blasted
tree. What do you say, Jim?”

“Well, I don’t like to make mistakes where
you young gentleman are concerned,” Ferrers
answered, taking off his felt hat and scratching his
head. “You see, it isn’t my claim.”

“The dickens it isn’t!” Reade retorted.

“Why, you—–­you gentlemen didn’t
plan to take me in, did you,” asked Ferrers,
opening his eyes very wide in his amazement over the
idea. “You see I—–­I can’t
contribute my share of the brains, along with a pair
like you,” continued the guide. “Look
at you two—–­engineers already!
Then look at me—–­more’n twice
as old as either of you, and yet I’m only a
cook.”